Spookily Yours (Witches of Pleasant Grove, #1)

by Jennifer Chipman

I loved every bit of this season—when the air turned crisp and you could pull all the warm sweaters out of the back of your closet. It felt like the equivalent of wrapping yourself up in a warm, cozy blanket with a cup of hot apple cider in your hands.

Why I decided I’d stop living my sad little witch life, the one where I practically floated in stasis. Like my hands were holding me up, but not moving. I wanted to move—to fly.

I might not have had everything figured out, but at least I had coffee.

There was nothing quite as magical as getting lost in the pages of a good book. I’d always loved that feeling—looking up, and realizing I’d just spent the last three straight hours reading without a break.

Oh my gods. “A cursed talking cat? What is this, Sabrina the Teenage Witch?”

I found I didn’t like that, either. I wanted to stay by her side. Protect her. Even if I weighed ten pounds, I still had sharp claws. And pointy teeth. If anyone threatened her…

What if you get hurt? I didn’t like the idea of her risking herself for me.

I couldn’t do that as a cat. Couldn’t take her beautiful face into my hands and promise her everything would be okay, not yet.

It was a small thing, really, to know I wasn’t alone, but it made me feel better.

small silver ring, the purple amethyst sparkling in the light. The setting was gorgeous—the entire piece was, really.

the same way I recognized Luna as my twin flame.

“I’ve got you,” he promised. “Nothing will happen to you as long as I’m here, Willow. I vow it.”

We were only an hour outside of Salem,

My deepest fears, brought to life. “That he’ll leave. Decide I’m not worth it and walk away.”

Halloweentown and Hocus Pocus, two of my favorites,

They’d detailed the dress with hundreds of tiny diamonds, which made it sparkle like the stars in the night sky. The midnight blue color blended into a deep purple as it rippled to the floor. Even more crystals detailed the sweetheart neckline of the silky gown.

Never had somewhere that felt like home before you.

To every blissfully perfect moment that would come, and every single one in between.